PROJECT: Of Machines
by Hy3na01
Summary: Demacia and Noxus have been at peace for a year. The war involved all countries, and now Darius has exiled himself from Noxus. Struggling with his personal life after being in isolation for a year, he comes to Demacia for refuge. During his struggles, people start to go missing, and something bigger than the war between Demacia and Noxus is on the horizon. Where will loyalties lie?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

This was the last place he wanted to be. It was his only option, he had no other choice, he kept telling himself. But he did. There was one other option, and that would be a very probable option considering where he was going. Living in the wilderness was not an option. Too many wild animals and other creatures. He did look unarmed and very desperate and in need, he thought, looking into a pool of water. The recent rain had left him damp and uncomfortable in his Freljord clothes. His cheeks were drawn in, his face gaunt and pale. His hair thinning, the white streak barely visible. Hopefully he would be able to keep pretense he was just a wandering traveler he was able to do in Piltover…..

Better to think less of Piltover.

He didn't even have his axe with him, nor his armor or any insignia. Besides the clothes on his back, the only thing he bore was a backpack with the miniscule scraps of food left over from his very long trek.

The gates loomed up in front of him, surrounded by petracit. He thought he could almost glimpse the top of the castle at the center of the city. He really hoped that he would be able to get some water. His throat was parched and he felt faint. Limping to the gates, he was approached by two guards flanking the one person he was hoping it not to be. He dropped to his knees. He had no more strength. It was either die, or probably die, with a chance of survival in jail. He had slaughtered many of their number in the war a year ago, the war that ended and their states had declared peace. The men had reached the gate, and it was opening. That could be a good sign that they didn't shoot him on sight. His hood probably covered his hair, and his facial features were probably unrecognizable. The men sauntered over the where he knelt, and he knew that they were probably not the friendliest they could have sent. Maybe he was recognized. Whatever the cost, he was going to die or be jailed. The first option was the better of the two, so he didn't have to deal with the weight on his shoulders.

"Speak, wanderer. What is your name? Why have you come here?" The man on the left said, none too nicely. He sported a thick mustache and mutton chops, gray with age. The hand on his sword was not one that was too friendly, nor did it seem like it was weak. This was a man of experienced swordsmanship, and he would not let his arm go frail.

"I thought you offered shelter for those without one." He responded, his voice hoarse from dehydration. Mustache gave a sharp laugh.

"Good answer. However, not answering the question doesn't get you inside the gates." Mustache said.

"He is correct though, Lex. At the war's end, we did say we would offer shelter to those without a home from the war." The man on the right, obviously the nicer of the two, said. He sported no facial hair and seemed very young. Twenty-something he would guess.

"Let us see your face." Said the man in the middle, a hulking mass of muscle and metal plating. He had met this man many times upon the battlefield, and he was known for no mercy to his people. His _old_ people, of the place he had left. This was the man He was most afraid of. This was the man that would not hesitate to kill him if he gave him a reason.

"Will you not lend a weary traveler some water, or shelter?" He croaked.

"Show us your face, stranger." Said the middleman

With this statement, he realized it would do no good. He didn't have the energy to argue, nor was he going to. He threw his hood back and stared at the man in the center. He saw the look of recognition, replaced by surprise, and then anger in his eyes. Middle man took a sharp intake of breath before finally releasing, in it, his name. The name he ran from for the past year.

"Darius."

"Garen." he replied

And then everything went black.

* * *

Darius opened his eyes to a woman in white, with brown locks of wavy hair reaching just past her chin, the ends tipped violet.

"Drink" she said. "You have not had water for around about a day and a half. Do not kill yourself by dehydration, its one of the worst ways to go." She said.

He drank eagerly, and when the glass was empty, she refilled it, again, and again.

The woman barely caught the glass from his fingers as everything went black again.

* * *

He opened his eyes again to conversation off to the side.

"We can't keep him here sir. He is Noxian, and The Hand no less." The voice was Garen, talking about him.

"You know the peace treaty. We can. And we will, as there should be no feuds between Noxus and Demacia anymore. You know that you yourself came under speculation at the end of the war for announcing you were seeing that Red-headed assassin. What was her name again?" It was Jarvan. He sounded more reasonable than Garen, to Darius at least.

"Katarina? She was close to being assassinated in her own state for announcing the same thing. That is why she stays here. It's no longer safe for her in Noxus." Came Garen's reply.

Now that was interesting. Last he heard, Kat was nice and safe in the Du Couteau manor in Noxus. Then again, last time he was in contact with anyone, from anywhere, besides brief contacts was more than a year ago.

"Well, it's the same thing here. He came to our gates asking for residence, and we will supply it. Why else would he be here, unarmed, during the peace? You know what happens to champions if they break a treaty, even more specifically this one, even if the institute is no longer a thing." Came the voice of Jarvan. At least he had one person who would help him in this city, he thought.

"Well, sir, what do we do with him?"

"I'll tell you…"

Everything returned to black

* * *

He woke again to sunlight on his face. The warmth was comparable to the fire he had back home. _But it's not home anymore,_ he reminded himself. Too many bad memories. He opened his eyes to a wondrous view out a window. He was high up, with a view of the entire city. It was beautiful, and the sun was just above the Ironspike mountains, topping its white-capped peaks in gold. He looked about and found a note with a glass of water on a table next to him.

 _Drink up. Don't dehydrate yourself anymore. Not in my house anyways._ No signature, but the handwriting looked familiar. He reached for the glass and drank, just as soon as a door opened somewhere in the room. He couldn't see past the curtains to his sides, and he didn't want to chance standing up, so he just sat and awaited whoever was coming.

"Well, glad to know you're awake." The voice was almost as recognizable as the hair, the color of blood, reaching to the woman's waist.

"Hi Kat." He said.

She was dressed in a dark red dress that reached just past her knees, with a circlet of silver around her waist. She had her hands on her hips and she looked slightly pissed off that he was awake, contrary to her statement.

"What are you doing in Demacia, Darius?" she asked.

"Oh, you know, just looking at the sights, slaughtered some children, casually passed out due to dehydration, the usual." He said, keeping his sarcasm to the maximum to make sure that, should any guards be around, or overhear, they understand he _didn't_ actually kill any children.

"You are so hard to talk to, even when you almost died. You act like you don't care. Is this with what happened to…" She cut off seeing the look in his eyes. "Wait, what actually happened? Did Swain make _you_ do it?" She asked, anger flashing behind those green eyes. When he didn't answer, she said; "He did didn't he? Oh, Darius, I'm so sorry." She didn't sound like herself.

"Are you okay? You just said you sorry about something." he joked

"I have tried to stop being an annoying woman who won't answer questions and will actually state she is sorry for someone. I can't just walk around Demacia as an old enemy and act like I own the place. I have to show some decency, especially around Garen. I guess some just rubbed off on me." She stared sheepishly at the ground before Darius heard the door open again, this time someone without the assassin's grace of being silent, someone with heavy footsteps.

"Kat, what are you doing here?" Garen said.

"Making sure he is fine Garen, it's not like I came to assassinate him. You know I'm out of that sort of stuff," she said.

"You mean the stuff that you were doing since you were young up until a year ago?" Garen said, with a joke hidden behind his voice. His mouth quirked into a smile as he said it, then he saw that Darius was awake and was listening intently.

"Well, Darius. I can't say well met, nor do I still trust you, even with the peace. What, may I ask, do you want with Demacia?" He asked, a shard of anger flashed in his eyes as he spoke.

"Refuge." Darius answered. It was his only reason for coming here. Piltover rejected him. Zaun was out of the option, Ionia was too far and wouldn't want him anyways. Shurima was desolate and filled with void-borne. He wouldn't survive in the Kumungu, the Shadow Isles were unpredictable, and Freljord was too cold and full of wolves. Bandle wouldn't appreciate his presence for very long, and Targon was for dedicates. With the closing of the Institute, he had nowhere else to go.

"What does the Hand of Noxus need with refuge?" Garen asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Katarina looked at him with an emotion in her eyes he couldn't identity, and left.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She spoke over her shoulder. "Garen, I'll be at home."

Darius dropped his head to his chest. He was skinnier than normal, with his long travels and malnourishment depriving him of his muscle.

"I would rather not say." Darius said quietly, almost a whisper.

"You are going to have to if I'm to believe you. We do offer refuge from those without homes after the war, but don't you have a home? In Noxus?" His question implied _far away from here_.

"Not anymore." Came his reply. He looked Garen in his eyes. He could see confusion, and deep down, so very slightly, a glimmer of guilt? "I would rather not repeat the story, but should it be needed to be, I'll repeat it." He said.

"Here is what I am going to do. I am not going to tell the citizens of Demacia that you are here. We are going to act like you aren't here. You are going to assume a new identity, and live like a common, everyday demacian. Then, in two months, I will come to you and I will ask you the same question. I will meet up with you once a week to make sure you are doing fine. You will support yourself and make your own money until then. You will be given proper food and lodging for the first week to give you a leg up. Then, when the two months are up, I will judge you, with Jarvan. If we cannot find any suspicious behaviour or lies in your testimony, we will let you continue to live here. How does that sound for you?" Garen said. Darius couldn't believe it. They, the leaders of Demacia, were actually giving him, Darius, the former Hand of Noxus, a chance to live with them?

"What's the catch? This seems too simple." Darius said, expecting that they would do something that would make those two months unbearable.

"No catch. Only the one thing you didn't give our soldiers on the battlefield." Garen said as he came forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. Darius flinched away as he spoke the word in his ear.

"Mercy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Short Chapter to add in some more stuff, not really a full chapter considering the shortness of it.**

* * *

One Week Later

Darius grumbled as he opened the door to his place. It was a small building on the city's edge, leaving him far from the nobles that lived near the center, and more importantly, Garen. It wasn't too small, but not very large either. There were three rooms, one for sleeping, one for a bathroom with a shower that gratefully had warm water. And the central living area, consisting of a kitchen and a small living room. A fridge and a counter were shoved into the far wall and corner, with a small stove next to them. A small couch against the right wall and a small table in the center, with the left wall consisting of two doors for the other rooms. He shut the door behind him and dropped his keys on the coffee table. He picked up his bag of groceries and started loading them into his small fridge, and slumped onto his couch, grateful to be off of his feet. His job that Garen had supplied him with was a construction job, rebuilding the houses that had fallen into disrepair over the years of them having been built. Most of them were around the city's edge like his own. The good news was he put on some more of his lost weight by what he was eating and the heavy lifting in construction. A problem he was running into was sticking with his new identity. James Rush, age 28, formerly of Piltover. Ironic. The only city-state in Valoran that threw him out now is where he is from. He had seen little of Garen lately, as the only time he saw him was two days ago on his promised weekly visits. He left a wad of crumpled bills, a book, and, surprisingly, a small dirk sheathed in leather. He assumed it was because he was living in the slums of Demacia, if they could be called slums. There was the everyday burglar or mugger, but far fewer than how many were in Noxus. Even then, Darius could hold his own against them, his military training a wonderful defence. Still, he strapped the dirk to the inside of his leg, hidden in his boot. His thoughts began to wander as he sat there, sitting and contemplating. They wandered to his travels and what he learned on the long road to freedom of his own demons. He learned about the wilderness and what plants he could eat; expanding his already large volume of edible plants. He learned to shoot a bow, as he had no need to fight from a distance, instead wading into the thick of battle with his axe and heavy armor. He liked the feel of his bow, and prefered it to having hunted his first rabbit with his bare hands, strangling it to death. He used sapling limbs to form the bow, and, gruesomely, used a dried tendon to form his bowstring. It was bloody work, and it made him shudder every time he drew it, but he had to survive somehow. He shook his head. Thinking about such things would do no good. It was in the past. Suddenly feeling as if his apartment was too small, figuratively, he grabbed his keys and stumbled out into the afternoon light, locking the door behind him. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets to keep warm. The months before snowdown were harsh in Demacia, and in snowdown it was no less so. Darius trudged his way up and out of the city, away from the slums and those who lived there, headed for the woods to clear his head. He found that the loud city still gave him headaches. Even after a week there, he still preferred the quiet, stillness of the wild.

In the woods, he found a small stump to sit upon. He had taken to meditation when the long, tireless nights had taken him and could not sleep. Ever so slowly he relaxed his breathing and let the sounds of the forest come to him. The sound of a woodpecker in a nearby tree, the sound of crickets coming out early, the sound of tree boughs creaking under weight.

Darius opened his eyes. The sound of boughs creaking was not a natural one. Someone had followed him. Was it someone from Noxus hoping to take him unawares for leavin? No, no one knew where he went. No one would follow him to such great extent, all across Valoran to kill him. He wasn't fast during his travels, and he knew any killer could have taken his life easily. He almost let them in Piltover. No, this was someone new, someone who had tracked him from Demacia. The quiet creaking of branches grew closer. The person was coming closer. He tracked their point from where he was at, without moving his muscles, as if still deep in meditation. Soon, they would be close to glimpse in the trees.

He sat in wait.

The intruder was kneeling in the closest tree to him, oblivious to the fact that Darius was alerted to their presence. He couldn't make out much with the remaining leaves stubbornly sticking to the trees limbs, but he could make out a slight flash of what looked like blue. Darius' senses instantly went to high alert. The last time he saw that color, the violet-blue hue, was back in Noxus.

Talon.

He had followed him. From Noxus. But, how had he known he was here? He had heard some rumors about him and Garen's sister, but in reality, they seemed far too fake to be true. Talon, a cold blooded assassin, with a bubbly light mage? Not likely. But he was here. And Darius was about to be killed by Noxus' most notorious assassin.

He wouldn't let him be killed in the forest, the only place he felt safe nowadays. Without alerting his watcher, he shifted his weight slightly, ready to run. At the same time, he heard his stalker do the same. So he was watching more than he thought. It was time to go. Any time longer and he would be lying on the ground with a knife in his throat. Darius bolted. He heard the crashing of branches as he ran, his stalker not bothering to be quiet. Darius became frantic. Talon had the high ground, and he couldn't run from a highly trained assassin that could trace you by smelling the same air you breathed an hour ago. He had to outsmart him. He was a little bit more familiar with the terrain than Talon was, so he could try to lose him in the forest. Darius dashed off to the side, through a thicket. The crashing ahead, from his past walks through the forest, he knew that there was a gentle stream, with a clearing ahead. He would be out in the open where hopefully he could have the upper hand in hand-to-hand combat. Just a little farther.

As soon as he heard the gurgling of the stream, a weight hit his back, dropping him to the ground. Darius rolled to the side and grabbed at his boot, trying to find his dirk. His hand had barely brushed the handle before Talon grabbed at it and threw it into a nearby tree, stuck fast into the bark. Weaponless, Darius had to rely only on his brute strength to keep all of Talon's sharp, deadly objects away. He turned to face his assailant, only to be struck speechless at the person straddling his waist.

It was _definitely_ not Talon


	3. Chapter 3

**Another short chapter. When I wrote these, I thought they were longer than what would be uploaded here. Anyways, enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

Talon did not have _that_ color of brown hair. Talon had sharper objects that his eyes, contrast to the person sitting on him at the moment. Talon always wore a cloak with blades attached, and Talon _definitely_ did not have the curves of a woman. The woman above him was also the woman in white who was looking after him during his recuperation, but this time wearing the same blue colors of Talon's cloak.

"Wha-wha-who-?" He spluttered

The woman above him smiled, and her blue eyes softened. She replaced her hands onto his shoulders to keep him from moving as he struggled against her weight. She wasn't heavy, but he wasn't in the best of shape and stunned from having a woman straddling his hips so suddenly after believing he was being chased by an assassin.

"Well that was the best chase I have had in a year, even though I know these woods by heart and it was quite brief." She said. She had a soft voice, calm, as he remembered from his brief waking in the hospital. The violet ends of her hair caught the light, changing to a light amethyst.

"Who are you?" Darius managed to splutter out of his lips.

"My name is Quinn, formerly Demacia's wings. That all changed a year ago though. No need for scouts anymore do we?" She said. Her smile dipped slightly, as if fighting off a frown. "The real question is, mister, who are you? You have had some form of training, as I barely noticed you shift your weight, and you know how to run and place your feet to avoid roots by instinct. Yet Garen told me you are from Piltover, the most technologically advanced city-state in Valoran. How are you able to run like that?"

"I-I am from Piltover, I just prefer the woods over anything. I used to go for shipment runs to Ionia for new inventions, so I managed to find some time in the woods. Its… Calming. It was usually so loud in the city, it was a nice change." This was his formulated answer for anyone who wanted to ask questions, so he spoke it like a second language.

Quinn laughed. Darius liked the sound of her laugh, but not the statement that followed. "Oh, that's total bullshit! No one from Piltover _or_ Ionia could shift their weight like that without some form of military training. Come on, spit it out, or I will have to use my scary measures."

Darius felt her fingers tighten around his shoulders, nails digging into his back. She wasn't kidding, yet the way she put it made it sound like it was a game.

"I took a vacation to Ionia. I met Master Yi and Lee Sin there, and they all helped me with self-defense techniques. I was apparently someone who was wanted dead from someone in Zaun. I wanted to be able to defend myself or run at a moment's notice without anyone being able to sense my intentions, should they try to sneak up on me."

She stared into his eyes, blue meeting brown. Darius thought he saw a look of recognition her eyes, even though he never saw her on the front lines. Then again, she was a scout. She might have seen her whilst he never saw her. Pity, she wasn't hard on the eyes, that was for sure.

"Alright. But why the discretion? I knew something was up when Garen told me to fix you up and never said who you were, then He and Jarvan met discreetly and told me to leave. In my own house too!" She stood up, dusting herself off. Darius took the time to breathe before lifting himself off the ground as well. He stood nearly a half a foot taller than her. She walked to a tree, from which his dirk was deeply embedded, and attempted to pull it from the bark. She grunted as it didn't budge from the tree, eliciting a frown from her.

"I threw this way to hard apparently." She said. "I don't even know how to throw knives, i'm surprised it even stuck."

"Here, let me." Darius said, reaching around her and prying it free in one easy tug.

"Well well mister strong man. What is your name, and what is a man like you doing with a dirk?" Quinn asked, with a joking tone, a smile alighting upon her lips again. "You look more like a big heavy sword person, not a small knife-someone-in-the-dark kind of person."

"My name is James. James Rush. And, Garen gave it to me, the knife. He said I would need it if I was to live around the city's edge." He replied, almost stumbling out his own name.

"You live on the city's edge?" she asked, worry in her eyes. Apparently that is where you _don't_ want to be.

"Yeah, I have a small place there. It's just temporary until I find a more permanent establishment. And a proper job." Darius said, the words rolling unbidden off of his tongue, not even realizing that it was what he wanted.

"You are looking for a job?" Quinn said. She started to walk, hopefully towards the exit. He hurried to keep up and managed to keep pace.

"Yeah, something more permanent than the job i'm currently at." The construction job was minimal pay for maximum work, not really something he wanted to be apart of.

"You could help me out. I have been working on my new place, out in the mountains just outside of Demacia. After that, I have plans for a pub inside the city. You could help me with the heavy lifting, as i'm not exactly the best with heavy lifting. " She winked at him sideways. He was startled at this offer. He wasn't expecting it. He just met this woman, who he thought to be an assassin, and then he lied to her about his name, and now she was offering him a job.

"Uh, I mean, umm, sure?" He tried to sound convincing, but it came out more of a question than a statement. She laughed, and Darius couldn't help but smile. It was infectious.

"Relax, it's just a job. I'm not asking you to live with me or anything. Besides I don't bite. Hard." She winked at him again at the last part of her sentence.

"Okay… Where is your place and when do I start?" He asked. He would quit his construction job as soon as he could.

"How about tomorrow? As for where I live, just over there." She pointed as they left the thicket of trees. It wasn't where he had entered, rather, off to a side of where he entered. He didn't remember walking up an incline, but now he was looking out over Demacia from the top of a high hill. To his left, a very large house stood overlooking the city, the tips of the Ironspike mountains peeking out over the roof. His mouth fell open without his consent. She laughed at that.

"There is a path through the woods that we just followed, or one off over there." She said, pointing to a footpath that descended the hill to Demacia below. "I was helpful in turning the tide and determining the sactions of the treaty, so I was compensated by Jarvan and now I live here, away from your city life so to speak. At least, once its finished fully." Now that Darius was closer, he could see that half of one of the walls was not finished and the roof wasn't fully in place.

"You said tomorrow?" Darius asked.

"Yes, as soon as you can get here. If you get here early enough, you can have breakfast with me if you want." Quinn smiled, looking out over the city.

"I guess i'll see you then." Darius asked. He started towards the footpath heading down to the city.

"Oh, and James!" Quinn called.

"Yes, Quinn?" he asked as he turned

"Don't forget to hydrate" She winked at him before going inside her house and shutting the door.

Darius shook his head, and descended.


	4. Chapter 4

**I think most of my chapters are going to be around this length, of 1,000-1,750 words long, Chapter One being the current only exception.**

 **This chapter starts the actual plot line, and maybe some of you have already guessed at the plot line from the title of the story...**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

Lucian walked through the narrow streets of Zaun, his mind wandering off towards his true enemy. Why was he stalking this one? Money. He needed the money. But Zaun was disgusting. And with the constant threat of Urgot finding out he was here and hunting him down, he would have to work quick. His target was not far off, and then he could leave this disgusting shit-hole of a place. Then he saw his target. He ducked down an alleyway and began climbing the rusty fire escape to the roof of the building. Ducking off to a corner, he watched his target walk the streets like they owned them. Which they probably did, considering who they were.

 _Better not be spotted_ Lucian thought, as he ducked behind a air vent to avoid the roving eyes of his target. They turned down an alley and off to a sub street. Lucian followed on the roofs of the close-knitted buildings, far enough away to avoid detection, yet close enough to watch his quarry. They slipped off to another alley and ducked into a small iron door with squealing hinges.

 _Damn, no following him in there_ Lucian thought. The hinges would give him away instantly, if not, the loud clang of it shutting behind him would. He had two options. Lie in wait for his quarry to return, or find another means of getting inside. Considering the fact that it would be daybreak soon, and he had no idea of when his target would return, he chose the latter. He scanned the rooftop of the building his target went into.

 _Bingo_ thought Lucian, as he spotted a small trapdoor located at the far right of the building's roof. Lucian jumped over, careful to avoid any eyes that may be on the ground below or across the dimly lit street. He walked over to the trapdoor, and to his luck, found it without a lock.

 _It's way too easy. There is no way this guy would leave an entrance open like this. Must be guarded on the other side._ Quickly, Lucian drew his left-hand lightslinger, and crouched down. Guarded or not, no evil should be able to reanimate the dead, even if it could bring Senna back. He subconsciously touched his hip on his right, where the other lightslinger remained holstered. _Her_ lightslinger. He gripped the handle of the hatch and lifted it slightly, trying to keep noise to a minimal. Carefully, he opened it and set it down. Nothing. Pure, ink-black stared back at him, almost as if it was a mouth of some unknown beast. He drew his second lightslinger and dropped through the hatch, greeting the darkness like an old friend. Landing on the cement flooring without a trace of sound, he scanned his surroundings. Nothing but pitch still. He crouched, waiting for his eyes to adjust. What he saw made him want to run. He had faced monsters of infinite evil, he witnessed a pack of wolves open a man and gorge them on their flesh, he saw his own wife taken by the Lantern of Thresh, and yet, this made him want to run.

People hung from the ceiling by hooks through their mouths, their lower jaws ripped off. Pieces of their bodies missing, only to be replaced by crude machinery, rusting or missing pieces, like the person who put them there second guessed themselves and, instead of removing it, went at it with a dull knife. Arms, legs, hands, parts of faces, sometimes their entire bodies replaced with metal and electronics. Weaponry replaced hands, computers replaced brains, dried blood on the ground and over the walls, pieces of men and machinery littered the floor. He heard the whirring of machinery below him, and noticed a door off to the side of the room. No wonder the trapdoor wasn't guarded, this was enough to scare more than just the wandering thief

 _Better investigate. Get this over with so I can leave this place and have someone blow it up._ Lucian padded over to the door, careful not to make noise. This one, contrary to the one outside, was well oiled and shiny. It opened with no noise, and inside he found a ladder leading down. Lucian slowly eased himself onto it, careful to place his feet close to the ends so as to remove the chances of squeaks.

"Come on down now, Purifier. I'm not going to hurt you." Came a voice from below, chilling him to the bone. It was a mix of man and machine, like someone was speaking through a running fan. He dropped down the ladder, landing in a crouch, and surveyed the room. Like above, Lucian noticed bodies hanging from hooks, in the same shape as above. The room was centered around a large platform, with what looked like high-tech torture devices and surgical equipment. But Lucian's attention quickly snapped to the man in the center of the room. He was on the shorter side, with graying hair and his eyes replaced with yellow glowing bulbs. His face was scarred, and his clothes consisted of a mix of metal and cloth, with large rubber gloves reaching up to his elbows.

"Welcome, to my lab, Lucian. Do you like it?" The man asked.

"How do you know my name, necromancer?" Lucian asked, raising his guns to point them at the man's face.

"Please, call me Doctor. And if you don't like it, im going to have to insist. I don't resurrect people you know, so necromancer doesn't really fit does it?" The man asked.

"Alright _Doctor_ , tell me, what is with the bodies there and upstairs?" Lucian asked, pointing to the bodies on the wall and then gesturing to the ladder.

"Right to the point, eh? I like you. They are my past failures and test subjects. It was sad that they didn't get to live. But, I have two in the process that I think will work out wonderfully." The Doctor gestured over to two pods on the far wall, the glass opaque, but not so much that he couldn't make out the subtle outline of human shapes.

"Two? Two more victims? What are you doing to these people?"

"I am giving them the chance to be better. Stronger, faster, smarter, and better yet, _predictable_. Humans are so unpredictable, don't you agree? But with the merge of flesh into hextech, they become what they were always meant to be, and so much more." The Doctor turned away as he said this, and pressed a button on a table behind him. A few instruments lowered from the ceiling around the apparatus in the center of the room, another pod rising from the floor. "Would you like to join me?"

This question hit Lucian like a slap to the face, and he instantly threw his vision to the bodies on the far wall.

"Tell me, doctor, what does this process do exactly?" Lucian asked, his eyes roving around the room. The Doctor had many more buttons on his table, and no doubt had some that would force him to become a test subject.

"I already said this. It merges your flesh with hextech material, making you faster stronger, smarter. Well, maybe not smarter, as the only direction you get is from me." The Doctor tapped a small device on the side of his head. "I transmit instructions from my wonderous brain right to your computer in your head."

Lucian definitely did not want to be apart of this project.

"I think i'm going to have to decline, good doctor. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be taking my leave." He could have a group of people ready to storm this place by noon that day, and tear it down piece by piece, until nothing remained. Maybe pull a few strings and have Ziggs throw a bomb on this place, hopefully with the Doctor inside.

"Oh, but you thought you could just leave with me having told you what I have? No, the price for information is a high one, and your price is to give me your body for my project." The Doctor tapped a button him his table and pressed a few keys into a keyboard next to his array of buttons. Claws dropped from the ceiling and gripped Lucian's arms tightly, almost making him drop his light slingers.

"I will not be taken to lose my own actions to your maniacal scheme!" He raised his hands, pointing the guns at The Doctor. "I will not go down without a fight!" He pulled the triggers of his guns. Two concentrated beams of light shot from them, headed right for the doctors face. Before they could hit, The Doctor slammed a button on his table, and a wall of pure energy shot from floor to ceiling, effectively destroying his shots.

"Oh, but you will, Purifier." The Doctor tapped a few keys and suddenly he was in the apparatus in the center of the room, locked into place by metal bars crossing his chest and waist, clamped at the wrists and ankles.

"You're a liar and a maniac." Lucian said

"Oh? How so?" The Doctor replied, intrigued by the guns that Lucian had just dropped on the ground next to him.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me." Lucian spluttered. He was just trying to buy time to try to figure a way out of his metal cage. It smelled like death.

"Oh, i'm not going to hurt you." The Doctor said. "But _he_ will." The doctor pressed a button on the side of his head, and the lights in his eyes changed from yellow to red.

"Oh, this will be fun won't it." It wasn't a question.

A syringe was dropped from the ceiling, the liquid inside a chocolate brown. Senna's eyes were that same color.  
"I am sorry Senna. I have failed you." Lucian whispered. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck and everything went black.


	5. Help please!

**Forewarning: I want to put out chapter five as soon as possible, but I need help from any and all that wish to help. This is not a chapter, but is urgent and needs to be fulfilled before it comes out, or it will just be a whole lot of cringe.**

* * *

I need a last name for Darius and his Brother. I would love some suggestions from you guys (The readers), as the placeholder name I have for him sounds like a ten-year old named him based on his lore. I would rather not have this name, so I want to open it up to you. Send me messages for what you think their last name should be, and I would love to implement them!

Thank you,

-Hy3na


	6. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone who is/was/about to continue reading this story! It's been a while (For me) because I was hoping to get some Surname suggestions for Darius. I received none. Am I that scary? Anyways, I created my own last name for him, different from what I had originally. I took it from the main character in the series "The Magicians," But it is still temporary. It doesn't seem to fit his character very well.**

 **We have some Drama in this chapter, and the reason why Darius is in Demacia in the first place, along with a certain person that has been missing from a certain Scout...**

 **This I feel is the point where I started to devolve into drama-related issues rather than Plot-related. If any chapters past this are a little sub-par, that is why.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Chapter 5

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Darius went immediately to the Palace. He knew Garen was residing there, as he was told this upon Garen's first visit. It was time to tell him what had happened. He didn't really expect to be ready within a week, but it was better to get it off of his chest then let it weigh him down. The palace was located in the center of the city, so he went to grab his warmer jacket. With the hood up, no one could see his face, and no one would need to. All he would have to do was request an audience with Garen or the King, and he would just leave his name. It was one of the only things that could make either of them scramble to their feet instantly.

Upon reaching the Palace gates, a guard inside asked what he was there for.

"I need an audience with Garen Crownguard." Darius replied, keeping his head low and his voice deeper than usual. Who knows who has actually seen him on the front lines, palace guard or no. "Tell them it's James Rush."

The guard rushed away inside and he turned to the one other guard before. He was surprised to see it was the guard that brought him into Demacia originally; the nicer one without facial hair.

His face was pale white, but he knew Garen had sworn to him to keep quiet about all of it. The other palace guard came running down from the entrance, fear putting a bit of a run into his step.

"Jarvan and Garen will both see you in the study. I will escort you there." the guard said, slightly out of breath. Not much running around these days apparently

"Alright."

Inside the palace was much more grand inside than outside. Outside it was all marble and golden façades, whilst inside it was all gold and marble façades. Funny. Garen and Jarvan were both waiting for him in the study. Both looked irritated and had their arms crossed over their broad chests.

"Well Darius, what is the meaning of this?" Jarvan asked. He _sounded_ irritated.

"I have come to tell my story of why I am here." Darius asked. This earned him a surprised look from both Garen and Jarvan. He couldn't help but return a smug smile because of it.

"Well then, take a seat. I assume this will take a while." Garen said, gesturing to a chair as he took a seat as well.

"Well now, where to start…" Darius asked, speaking the entire truth and left nothing out to be assumed or impose a lie.

The following morning

"People of Demacia!" Prince Jarvan spoke, his vice ringing out to the crowd below. They were on a balcony, with Darius hidden from view to keep himself hidden and a surprise to the crowd. He had washed the black dye from his hair to reveal his shock of white hair, and almost as an afterthought, dressed in the most simple and passive way possible. Blue jeans and a white shirt. He didn't even bring his dirk. "I have come before you to tell you a story. A story that Garen and I have kept away from you for too long. Over a week ago, a man came to us, weak with dehydration and little food. He carried no weapons and was not a threat. That man came to us for refuge from his own country. The country of Noxus." at a response to this, the crowd began to talk. Darius couldn't see many from where he was at, but he could still hear some of what they were saying.

"It isn't right-"

"Noxian? In Demacia?"

"Seeking refuge-"

"Not possible-"

"The treaty-"

"Who-"

"People!" Jarvan yelled again, the crowd instantly hushed. "I have come to tell you, that after evaluating this man, we have come to accept that he should now, as stated by Demacian law and the treaty that ended the age-old feud between us, become a citizen. Please, I want no violent actions taken against him with the intent to kill or scare him away, as it will be considered an act of treason. As the king, I bestow the full citizenship upon him." At those words, Jarvan turned and gestured to Garen. Garen then walked up and escorted him to where the entire population of Demacia could see him. "I would like to introduce the newest Demacian citizen, Darius Coldwater!" Jarvan gestured to Darius grandly, like he was introducing the leader of a country than one of the city-state's most notorious enemy. Darius scanned the crowd, noticing many downturned and disgusted faces. He had probably killed many widows' husbands during the war, and he would rather not feel the guilt right now. He saw some happy faces in the crowd, and he was delighted to know that some people accepted him. But then he saw a shape moving out of the crowd, the shape of a woman with short brown hair with violet tips, heading out of the city and away from the crowd. She turned around once to look back up at Darius, as if expecting him to not be there. He met her eyes, and he saw the look of disgust in her eyes, and what looked to be a glimmer of sadness, even from far away, before she turned away and headed towards the path to her home overlooking the city. Darius' heart fell. He thought she would be one of the happier faces; but, it looked like she wanted to murder him.

He turned off of the dais and ran after her.

He caught up to her after she had reached the door of her house. Many people saw him run after her, and he knew people would begin to assume things.

"Quinn, wait!" He called. She paused, her hand on the handle to the door.

"I don't need to wait for you." She said, "You lied to my face, and you don't even know the worst of it. Don't worry about coming to help, I can get people who won't lie to me to do that. They are probably more trustworthy anyways." She turned the handle and stepped into the threshold

"Quinn, if I don't know the worst of it, why don't you tell me."

"I don't need to."

"You don't tell me and I won't stop bothering you until I do understand. Am I just that bad?" At this comment, her grimace turned into a small, sad smile - quickly, almost imperceptibly - before returning to a grimace.

"I guess you can tell the truth on one thing then. But you are not going to come into my home. Bad enough you already know where I live." Darius couldn't help but grimace himself. These were harsh words, even though acceptance from her was not something he was expecting, the words stung. "You wait here and i'll be back." She said, almost slamming the door. She returned a minute later with a small box in her hand.

"Alrighty now. Listen up because this is only going to be said this one time." Quinn said sternly.

"Okay."

"A year ago, during the war, I was known as Demacia's wings. Do you know why?"

"No, all I know is that you were a damned good scout."

"Flattery will get you nowhere here, Darius." She spat out his name like it was filth. "I was called Demacia's wings because I was always accompanied by an Azurite Eagle. It was the last of its species. It saved my life many years ago, back after my Twin was killed. In a way, Valor replaced my brother. We spent every waking moment, and even some unconscious moments, together, never separate. And then the war came." Darius already knew where it was going. This was part of his own story he had told Garen and Jarvan the day before. "Valor was killed in the war a year ago. It was like losing my brother again. All I have left from him is this." She opened the box and removed a single feather from it, deep blue, almost the color of her eyes. "And you know who killed him?" Quinn said, anger rising into her voice. Darius already knew, but he let her continue. "Your brother Darius. Your brother killed essentially my own."

Darius already knew this part. But it was what followed that had hurt him.

"I know, Quinn."

"You knew! You knew and you didn't even have the heart to tell me that your brother killed my best friend, and then _lied to my face_! I can't believe you!" Her words cut deeper than the axe he once carried.

"But you don't know the whole story, Quinn."

"What could I _possibly_ be missing Darius. Please, tell me." her tone, although sarcastic, carried a small suggestion of curiosity.

"Swain ordered Draven to bring the bird to him. We don't know why, but Draven was supposed to take him alive."

"Is this supposed to cheer me up? Learning that the man who killed my best friend was supposed to kidnap him?"

"No, Rumors were circulating that Swain had found the remaining female Azurite Eagle. He wanted to breed them to recreate the race of bird, but native to Noxus instead. But Draven killed Valor, right?" The look in her eyes told him yes, but also told him to shut up and continue at the same time. "When Draven killed Valor, Swain ordered him executed."

"Thank god that man is dead. They deserve to give whoever executed him a medal."

"Well, I haven't received one yet." Darius said. Quinn's head shot up and looked him in the eyes as the words left his mouth. "Swain made me do it Quinn. I killed my brother, because Swain ordered me to. In order to stay in Noxus, and be apart of Noxus, you must do what Swain tells you. This was during the war, and if I didn't listen, then I was to be executed, and then Noxus would have been left without generals. My life at that time was Noxus. My brother was the only thing I had left there. We grew up on the streets together. I taught him to fight. I taught him to kill." Tears were spilling over Darius' eyes, and he didn't have the care to stop them. This wasn't usually like him.. "After I killed him, and I saw his blood on the cobblestones, I turned to Swain. He thought I was going to bow, show how he was strongest. He was wrong." His sadness turned to rage. "I put my axe through his bird, and then halfway through his chest. I left him to die, and ran. I ran from Noxus, I ran from the war, I even ran from the person I was and the brother I left behind. And now, my only hope was Demacia, and the only friend I had managed to make was the one person whose life I ruined through my brother." He had finished his rant. He didn't expect any pity from her. He killed his brother, she lost hers twice. He shouldn't have expected anything from her. He looked up and saw her face drained of color and emotion, the feather forgotten in her hand.

"Oh." Was all that she managed to say.

He couldn't fathom the look of emotionless she gave him. He needed to be alone.

He turned around and fled to the woods.

* * *

 **I know that doesn't exactly sound like Darius, nor his actions following up with his usual persona (In game Darius would probably decapitate his problems and walk away and sleep it off). But keep in mind, he has been wandering the wilderness with almost no company for a year after killing his _own brother_. **

**Before anyone asks, yes, I did kill off Valor. That is why Quinn is more Bubbly like a certain light mage that we know than less bubbles and more serious, as I would envision a ex-scout of Demacia. She is trying to still get over Valor's death, even a year later. More on that next chapter.**

 **Past this point, i'm trying to incorporate more Plot related stuff and things, but Its hard when I want to write something else, but need to keep on plot in order** _to_ **write more of what I want, as what I want is later in the story. We wil have another Plot connector soon, hopefully.**

 **Until then, Fly high.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Yay, drama related stuff in this chapter. Plot stuffs coming soon, but this is kinda more of the "sub-plot" of a personal life.**

 **If you would rather I write more plot related stuffs, I promise it is coming. Message me for inspirations/ideas if you think you have some cool ones.**

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Chapter 6

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 _Great job Quinn, gotta make him run away by thinking you had worse problems than he d_ _id._ She thought, watching his form run into the woods. She was going to have to follow him now. Judging by his emotions at the time, and how fast he was running, he did not have a plan for where he was going. He probably wants to be alone, and there was no stopping him until he let out his anger and grief. Quinn quickly ran back inside her home, replaced the box with her feather to her nightstand, and quickly ran for the woods. She hadn't tracked in over a year, but it was one of the reasons why she became a scout, how easy it was to track people if you knew what to look for. But tracking wasn't needed to see where is large feet left imprints on the ground, where branches had been swatted away, and where brush had just been broken down and moved. He seemed to be heading to a clearing she remembered in the woods. It was a random clearing in the center of the woods, but, coincidentally, is was the same clearing in which they first met, formally. She was a few yards from the entrance when she stopped. She heard the thumping of two forces meeting brutally. Quickly, she hopped into a tree and kept her pace slow. She didn't know what was going on, but it could be anything.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ Like timed beats

When she got to the tree at the edge of the clearing, she saw Darius, hair disheveled and shirt torn, up against a tree, punching it. And it was leaving a mark on it. She slowed her movements to try to get closer to him, but something gave her away. He hesitated for a second, then continued his rhythmic punching of the tree.

"What do you want Quinn?" He growled out. She was surprised he knew it was her.

"What did that tree do to you?" Quinn asked, trying to jumpstart the mood up a few notches.

"Nothing. I just need to punch something that isn't going to hurt me back." He replied.

"It seems to be hurting your knuckles pretty badly there." Quinn said, noticing the blood on his hand and where he was punching.

"Yeah, well I don't feel the pain. Now, my original question; What do you want?" Darius asked, his attention still on the tree in front of him.

"I wanted to see if you were okay, and," She hesitated "And to apologize. For making it sound like I had worse problems than you." He stopped punching the tree at this statement, turning his head to try to find where she was in the canopy.

"Where are you." He asked. When he had his back turned, Quinn leapt out of the tree, knocking him onto his stomach with an grunt. She leaned down and whispered in his ear

"Right behind you."

"I can feel that." He said, twisting underneath her hips to look her in the face. He looked worse up close than farther away. His eyes were bloodshot, his face scratched from pushing through brambles and probably from Quinn knocking him flat on his face in the woods. Twice now. She hadn't moved her face far back from his after he flipped over, and she saw his pupils dilate and his breath hitch. He smelled like mint and chocolate.

"Darius!" A voice called. Darius' face dropped and groaned.

"Stay here please?" Darius asked "It's Garen, and I have to answer him." She frowned, and reluctantly got up off of his waist.

"I'll be right back, I promise." he said before turning away and out the entrance they both came from.

 _Well, she probably thinks its not in her best interests to stay anyways. But I just hope she will_. Darius thought as he went searching for Garen.

"DARIUS!" His voice was getting louder, or he was just yelling harder. Probably both. It was annoying.

"DARIUS GET OUT HERE!" Darius' sighed, running to the entrance to the woods by Quinn's house

"What Garen?" He asked

"What are you doing in the woods? Why did you run after Quinn after the announcement?" Garen asked, his eyes flashing with suspicion and a bit of anger. "Are you two…?"

"NO! I mean, no, it's not like that. She just deserved to know what happened to the man who killed Valor." Darius replied, maybe a little _too_ hastily. Garen raised his hands in mock defeat

"Alright, but you know that people will talk with those kind of actions right?"

"Yeah, well, I don't think many like me anyways." Garen snorted

"Yeah, don't think I didn't see those faces today. I went down to the crowd after the announcement was over. Some were actually happy. They said it was a large step towards peace, having two enemies live in Demacia." He saw Darius' expression "Ah, _former_ enemies."

"Yeah, well, I think i'm going to have to move out of the city's edge soon. Too many faces there I notice from the announcement were _not_ happy."

"Yeah, about that. There is a house I recently vacated when I moved to the palace. No one lives there, or would ever think to break in there. You can have it, I don't use it. It's just down the street from the palace, so no one would think to attack you either. It's yours if you want it." Darius couldn't believe his ears. He would have total access to the old Crownguard Manor? That place was _huge_.  
"Um, uh, yeah, uh, okay." He sputtered.

"Great, here are the keys." garen said, tossing over a keyring. It contained five keys, two gold, a silver, and two bronze. "Silver one is for the main doors. The bronze's are for the Cellar. One for the main, one for the wine cellar. The golden ones are for any locked rooms on floors two or three. I left a bunch of stuff there, so you can go ahead and have anything you choose from it."

He leaned in close to Darius' ear and whispered "Try a vintage snowdown. Back wall." He winked before turning and walking down the path.

"Wait, what is a vintage snowdown?" Darius asked

"You will find it, i'm sure." Garen asked, not even looking over his broad shoulders.

Darius watched him walk down the hill. When he was halfway down, he pocketed the keys and trudged back into the woods.

"Quinn?" Her head popped up from where it was in the tree. She crouched in the boughs, ready to drop down at a moments notice. "Quinn?" came the question again. She adjusted her view to watch the entrance. She saw his form come around a tree and entered the clearing again. She listened. His feet made a crunching noise on what leaves were on the ground. In time with his steps, she made her way over to the tree's over the opening to the clearing. He turned around in the center and scanned the trees.

"Quinn?" She made no reply. He sighed "Why did I think she would wait for me?" He did another turn around, and when his back was to her, she slid down the tree and leaned against it, looking all the while like she had been there the whole time, crossing her eyes and put a frown on her face, hard as it was to keep it that way. As he turned back around to leave, he noticed her there and jumped back.

"What in the name of-" She cut him off by laughing. She couldn't help herself, his face was so _funny_.

"Did you really think I would leave?" She asked between breaths

"Actually, I didn't know. I spent my life in seclusion for a year, I don't know how people act anymore." Darius replied gruffly. He obviously didn't like being laughed at. This reply just made her laugh more. A hint of a smile touched his lips, and then he was right in front of her. She tried to jump back, startled, but she hit the tree she positioned herself in front of. He placed his palms on either side of her shoulders, trapping her inside the circle of his arms. He was trying to intimidate her, but the joke was on him. She wanted to be closer to him, in his arms. She tilted her head up to look him in his eyes, a smile still on her lips. His pupils had dilated almost to the point where she couldn't see the rich chocolate of his eyes.

"Well, you stopped laughing." He said. He tried to sound pleased, but she heard the undertone of disappointment in his statement.

"You don't sound too happy about it." She replied

"Shut up." he growled

"No." She almost broke out laughing again, if not for the intensity of his stare.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"N-" He cut her off by capturing her lips against his. He tasted like chocolate and mint, just like he smelled. She wound her arms behind his neck, feeling the soft hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers tangling into the locks behind his head. His arms went around her waist, and she wrapped her legs around his, pulling him ever closer. People said you know when you find the one person you are meant to spend your life with. They say you can feel it everywhere, your head, your arms, your legs, your bones, like you had just drank an entire bottle of Valoran's finest brandy. But most importantly, they tell you of your heart. They say it feels like it grows twice the size, that it expands and you can't get enough breath. Quinn's seemed to have fused back together into one piece again. It had been torn in two with Caleb's death. Valor mended it the best he could, but then it had been torn finding out about Valor, and not just ripped out the stitches Valor put, but also ripped her heart again. Darius had sewn it back together in one simple move, like it was so easy to fix. She would have to confide in him one day, that he had fixed her, that he had taken her heart.

She would have to tell him one day the he had salvaged her soul from the ashes of Valor's pyre.

* * *

 **How nice of an ending. Some of this chapter's inspirations came from some books I have read, and I feel that this, whilst short, seems kind of... uncharacteristic. Garen, handing over the keys to the family house, Quinn not being an introvert, Darius trying to kill a tree instead of a person... I don't know. My feelings towards this chapter are back and forth.**

 **Until next time, Fly High**


	8. Chapter 7

**Hello again and welcome back! This is just a little bit of "Fluff n' Stuff" before next chapter. Hope you enjoy**

 **I want to thank someone out there, who knows who they are, and I hope is reading this, for my first review!**

 **More info for you at the bottom**

 **Enjoy all!**

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Chapter 7

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Darius opened the door to the Crownguard manor, fully expecting it to be full of dust. Garen had moved out a year ago didn't he? But no, it was spotless. He would have to ask if he had maids still clean this place, or if it was entirely recent. Carrying his small bag of possessions to here made him feel like he didn't belong. The faces on the sides of the street also didn't help that feeling. There was always that rare smile from someone on the street, but Darius accounted that to them probably trying to help him feel like he fit in. It also didn't help that Crownguard manor was four stories tall and covered a _very_ large area.

"I am going to need a map for a little while, I think." Darius thought out loud, then cringed at how empty the place sounded. Shutting the door and kicking his boots off, he walked across the hardwood floors to the kitchen. It was a nice space, large enough for multiple people and small enough to not be huge. He dropped his food off in the oversized fridge and left what didn't need to be cold on the marble countertops.

"Time to explore I guess." Darius entered one of the side doors of the kitchen to find a very large sitting room, with plush couches and chairs and an expensive looking alcohol cabinet. Cut crystal decanters of amber liquid and glasses stood neatly inside.

"Garen definitely didn't 'move out,' He abandoned this place." Looking at all of the expensive stuff just lying around. The cabinet reminded him of Garen talking about the cellar, and a wine cellar. Walking over to another door in the wall, he opened it. Training room. Racks of swords of various sizes and other weaponry lay on one wall, whilst training dummies stood against the back. There were so many other rooms to look at. A study, Library, five closets and storage spaces, dining room, kitchen, and sitting rooms all finished the first floor. The cellar was accessible by the back entrance, through doors set in the ground, bound with a thick chain. Inside, there was a multitude of things from suits of armor to jars of food. In the back, there was a set of doors leading to a room that smelled of grapes and wood and fermenting. The wine cellar. Remembering Garen's suggestion, Darius walked over to the far wall and found a few bottles on the shelves with a snowflake engraved on the bottle. Picking one up, he noticed fancy inscription labeled _Vintage Snowdown_. He took the bottle back into the manor with him and set it down on the coffee table of the sitting room. He briefly wondered about the rooms on the second and third story Garen was talking about being locked, and decided to go up to investigate the rooms. On the second floor, there were four main bedrooms with large beds, wardrobes for clothes, and extravagant paintings. There were two other bedrooms that were less extravagant, which Darius suspected were guest rooms. Down the hall he reached to the first locked door. He opened it to find a bunch of crates with labels of where they came from. Most were labeled _Ionia,_ or _Freljord_ , but here and there he glimpsed such names as _Piltover_ and _Zaun_. Never one from Noxus though. "These must have been from during the war, or even before it." He opened one from Ionia and found it full of silk and cotton cloth. One from Piltover held hextech bits and pieces, another from Freljord held furs, and Zaun had a weird mix of chemicals. He left all other Zaun boxes closed, not knowing if some of the chemicals had spilled and were dangerous. There was one from Bilgewater, but he left that one closed, as it smelled like something had died in it. He left the door unlocked and was about to move on to another door when he heard a chime.

"Does this place have a doorbell?" he asked himself, walking down the stairs to the closed front door. Unlocking and opening it, he suddenly found himself in a familiar position with a very familiar someone sitting on top of him, with very familiar eyes that he spent that morning memorizing looking down at him.

"Quinn, you have to stop knocking me down like this." She laughed and he followed suit. Rolling off of him, she stood up to close the door.

"Why? I like seeing you get surprised, and I think i'm rarely going to have the height advantage anyways." He stood, dusting himself off before looking at her. She had changed clothes since he last saw her, into a soft blue shirt and jeans.

"So this is where you are going to live now?" She asked "Big place. Could get lonely here." She winked at him

"I can always steal you away from your place for a bit." The grabbed her hand. "Come, Garen suggested a wine for me to drink. Enjoy it with me." He lead her to the sitting room, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and the bottle from the kitchen.

"Garen sometimes held meetings here during the war with the most elite. I was our best scout, so I was invited. I never came, and Garen just filled me in on most of the important stuff later anyways. Although, I always wanted to see the inside of here." She said, looking around at the high ceiling and the plush couches. Darius poured himself and Quinn each half a glass of the purple liquid from the bottle, then seated himself next to her. Quinn took a sip first.

"Oh, wow. That is, something." She said before taking another sip. "What did Garen call this?" she asked

"Vintage Snowdown." Darius replied before taking a sip himself. Quinn was right, it was _something_. It tasted like cold creek water with hints of grape and mint, and an underlying taste he couldn't identify... "Wow, yeah. Something." She laughed as he repeated her statement.

"Are you really going to live here? What if it turns out there are murderers in all of the closets and Garen just wanted to freak you out?" Quinn asked, a smile playing across her lips.

"Really? Murderers in the closet?" he asked.

"Why not?" She leaned in closer to him, enjoying his warmth.

"Actually, most of his closets are full of towels. And the storage spaces are filled with crates from all over Valoran. At least, the first one was." He adjusted his position to be more comfortable for both of them, her knees up and leaning against his chest while he had his legs propped up on the coffee table.

"What if there is poison in the water here?" Quinn asked.

"Do you just not want me living here, or do you just not trust Garen?" He asked, a laugh following.

"It's just _sooooo_ far from my place." she said, her face breaking out into a smile. "How am I ever going to see you?"

"Please, it's not like i'm moving to Ionia, or Bilgewater. We are closer than you think." Darius replied, laughing. "I only moved closer to you technically. I lived on the city's edge opposite to you, you know."

"But you will come see me?" Quinn asked, hopefulness mixing with playfulness in her voice.

"Quinn, I will see you. I'm not going to just up and leave and all the sudden i'm the new crownguard. That's not how houses work." He cleared his throat and did an impersonation of Garen. "You! Yes, you there! Why are you here even if I say people can live here and I don't have to ask questions! You're Darius? My greatest enemy! Oh no! Please don't kill me! Have my house!" Quinn started laughing so hard she had to put her drink down before she spilled it, barely able to form words.

"Tha-tha-that didn't actually happen right?" The could barely get the sentence out. Darius started laughing at his

"No, why would I threaten him for his house?" he collapsed into a fit of laughter along with Quinn.

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"Quinn." She was shook awake by Darius.

"Mffph." She groaned. It was comfortable and she didn't want to move.

"Quinn, I may be comfortable, but I am not a bed, silly." His voice carried a joke, but also some truth to it. The two had talked into the night, a fire made in the fireplace to keep the area warm. They had ended up sprawled on the ground, Quinn propped up on Darius' side, telling tales of their past. Quinn had fallen asleep sometime earlier and so had Darius, Quinn curled around his side with his arms around her. "Quinn, its late. You should probably go." The fire had died down to embers, and Darius had propped himself up on his side and was attempting to wake her up.

"Come on, or I will carry you out of here to your place."

"I don't want to go." Quinn mumbled into his arm.

"Alright then, there are like six bedrooms here at least. Come, you can sleep here." Darius prodded her side with his finger. When she didn't move, Darius picked her up, one arm supporting her shoulders, the other under her knees. She started and almost fell out of his arms.

"I was _not_ expecting you to actually pick me up." She said

"I was _not_ expecting you to be so hard to wake up." She giggled at this, swinging her feet up and down and wrapping her arms around his neck. Darius walked up the stairs and opened the door to the second to last bedroom at the end of the hall. Laying her on the large bed inside, he put the covers overtop of her and pressed his lips to hers.

"I'll see you in the morning, Quinn." He left, the room plunged into near darkness when the door closed. Quinn drifted in and out of sleep for a little while, before getting up and going to the bedroom next to hers. She opened it slightly, knowing it wouldn't do to startle him. Hearing his breathing not change, she crept into the room and closed the door. Soft-footing over to the bed, she leapt up and settled herself back next to him, facing his broad chest. Sleep found her quickly then, and Darius would wake with her in his arms once more.

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 **To my first reviewer: You implied a question in your review, and I would like to answer it with some cryptic comment. However, none comes to mind as I am writing this at the time, so I will just plain out answer it: Quite possibly. I have an idea for where he could show up more, and i'm hoping to play him in later in the story.**

 **To everyone else, More plot connections next chapter. Also, I am not scary, message me! Ask questions, write reviews, whatever you want! I can try to answer as many questions as I can if and when I receive them!**

 **Until then, Fly High.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hello! Another chapter for you guys, a little later than I wanted it to come out, but still here none the less!**

 **Everyone is probably going to hate me after this chapter**

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Chapter 8

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Quinn woke to a bed, empty and cooling from heat of a body that left a little while ago. She stretched out, yawning and arching her back like a cat, her shirt riding up to reveal her stomach. Standing up, she noticed the lack of sound in the room, but shrugged it off as nothing. Probably already used to the heavy footfalls of Darius. Heading back to the room she was in the night before, she opened the door to the wardrobe to look for something to wear. Inside was filled with skirts, blouses, dresses, and in the far back, casual pants and shirts.

"Quite obviously Lux's room. No one in their right minds would have this many different dresses that are this frilly and this bright." Quinn whispered to herself. As she reached for a shirt and pair of pants, she decided to try something different. Grabbing a skirt and blouse at random, she rushed into the bathroom to take a shower and didn't look in the mirror until she had put the clothes on.

"Not bad, but not as comfortable as I would have thought. Still prefer my jeans, though." She had put on a black skirt and a light purple top that made her eyes seem even brighter. Hastily drying her hair to make sure it wouldn't drip, she left the bathroom and walked down the large staircase to the kitchen. It was still quiet. She quickly looked into the fridge and found little to eat. Meat, tomatoes, milk, and some cheese.

She scoffed. "Men." she said before closing the fridge and opening the bags on the counter. Bread, onions, garlic, jam, chocolate. At least he got one thing right she thought, grabbing some chocolate and stuffing it into a pocket in her skirt before pulling out the bread and jam and then grabbing the cheese from the fridge. After a short breakfast, she went to the sitting room to see if Darius was there. Empty. She noticed the wine on the coffee table, still uncorked. Recorking it, she set it in the fridge and cleaned up the glasses, earning another scoff and a mention of "Men" under her breath.

 _Thud_

She stood up so quickly she almost hit her head on a cabinet. The sound came from upstairs, probably the second floor judging how loud it was.

 _Maybe Darius was exploring and just dropped something_ She thought before calling out; "Darius?"

The only response she got was another _thud_ from the floor above. Leaving the kitchen, she walked over to the stairwell to look up.

"Darius? Are you exploring without me?" she asked, a joke hidden in her question.

"Quinn? I didn't realize you were up." Came the reply

"You didn't hear the shower?" She called, walking up the stairs.

"No, I didn't." Another _thud_

"Are you throwing _boxes_? What is that sound?" She asked, reaching the second floor

"Some of them. Some of these are empty, so i'm just throwing them across the room." His head popped out from the farthest door, his eyes lighting up as he saw her. She crossed her wrists in front of her and shifted nervously. She hadn't worn a skirt in a long time. Even at formal parties and dances she wore a suit like the men.

"You look _very_ nice." He said, his eyes slipping over her legs and tracing her body. Noticing her reaction, He walked over to where she was standing and grabbed her wrists, pulling her into the room he just left. "Did I hear someone was jealous of me exploring without her?" He asked, a smirk gracing his lips.

"You know it. I'm so disappointed in you." She didn't smile, as infectious as his was when she entered the room. It smelled like something died in it. "What is that awful smell?" She asked.

"I think an animal crawled into a box and died somewhere. I'm trying to find it to get rid of it." He replied, wrinkling his own nose. "Here, help me move these ones." He gestured to a bunch of boxes stacked against the wall, almost reaching the ceiling. He had to grab the higher ups, so she just transported them across the room. Until she could move the ones lower down. Gradually, a door was revealed behind the crates and boxes stacked up.

"What in Targon is this?" Darius asked, pushing aside the last of the boxes at the bottom of the door. It was a small door, only enough to admit one person through at once. Darius jiggled the handle. Realizing it was locked, he drew out a keyring, inserting a golden key into the lock. The click echoed through the small room as the lock retracted. Darius opened the door, only to find blackness. It was so dark that the only notion of the room extending further was the smallest of light shown on the floor that continued onwards.

"What in the-" Darius was silenced as a sound rang through the room. Quinn recognized that sound. He did too, judging from his reaction, his entire body stiffening and standing up straighter. But something was wrong.

"Was that a _gun_?" Quinn asked, incredulous. No response from Darius. Another shot ran through the room. This time, Darius fell backwards, almost hitting Quinn. He fell to the floor, and Quinn screamed, running from the room as another shot rang out.

There were two bullet wounds in Darius' chest, and another one close followed after that, narrowly missing her shoulder as she fled. She heard footsteps behind her, heavier than a normal man's, even heavier than Darius', hulking as he was. As she reached the stairwell, she turned her head around to get a look at her pursuer.

Metal. All she saw was metal, no human face, like some sort of robotic suit, yet distinctly masculine. He carried a sword behind him as he ran down the hall, faster than he should have been able to with all of the metal he was carrying. Quinn ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the counter, she ran into the dining room and hid under the table. She didn't know this place, but her instincts from the ageless war with Noxus were kicking in. If there were more of them, as there were at least two, they would be watching the exits, meaning she had no escape. She would have to lie in wait, maybe take one out, and use their weapons against them to escape and warn Garen. The heavy footfalls, slightly muffled and moving slow rang out against the hardwood, heading for the dining room. As they entered her view, she noticed the way that they did not make as much noise as they should. Metal on wood should have been super loud right?

"Find her" Came a voice, strangely metallic, like it was being echoed around in a metal room before being released.

"No need" came a reply "She is right there, under that table." The voice was lighter, but still had the metallic _twang_ to it. The figure she could see knelt, and looked under the table. She was greeted with a visor of an orange V, and ragged strands of long white hair behind it. The man carried two pistols, both gray with lighting accents of pink and yellow. The man was also covered in metal, as the person chasing her on the second floor was.

"Ah, little bird. Come out from under the table. We don't hurt." The man made a sound repeated many times. It sounded like metal clashing softly against metal. She realized he was laughing "No, no we don't hurt. Much." A hand grasped her arm. She started, hitting her head on the table before being dragged out from under the table by another figure. She was shoved in front of the man with the guns, who had stood up. The person that dragged her out was obviously female, carrying a sword and shield. She had only the upper half of her face covered by an orange stripe across where her eyes should have been, but her lower face didn't look right. It looked more like painted metal than human flesh. Quinn faced the man with the guns as the man with the sword appeared behind him.

"Who are you? Show me your faces!" She demanded, trying to buy herself some time.

The man with the sword laughed.

"So you want to see our faces?" he asked, crouching down in front of her, so her face was level with his. Instead of a stripe or a V of color, this man had a half-dome of black metal, with six lights down the side and one in the center bottom and top of it, right before it met a band of metal where his jaw should have been. "So be it." Keeping his sword in his right hand, he reached up with his left hand and fitted his thumb underneath his 'jaw'. Flipping it up, Quinn gasped.

It wasn't a face, but a bunch of machinery. These were no men, but monsters of metal. Abominations to take the place of men. The one in front of her laughed, as if he could still see her, before flipping 'face' back down and the lights flickering back on.

"We are the new generation of hunters. And we do not relent. We have been sent to take out anyone we could to test our skills. And your friend up there was a wonderful target for my friend right here." He gestured to the man with guns, who was idly twirling his pistols with the grace of a practiced gunner. "And now, you will be my practice." The woman behind her grabbed her arms to stop her from moving. Twirling his sword, the man swung it towards her throat. Quinn couldn't move, nowhere to go, nowhere to duck to. She couldn't move any muscles even if she wanted to. The blade whizzed towards her neck, yellow as the rising sun, and she felt a sharp pain across her neck as it severed her trachea, plunging into the muscles behind and sending her head backwards.

And then Quinn jolted awake.

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 **As I said, you all probably will hate me for that... But it is a plot connector, so I decided to make it kind of cliche you know? Dreams telling people something**

 **Until then, Fly High!**


	10. Chapter 10

**What you have just read is probably the final chapter I will publish of P:oM. I have started to rewrite the story over on another story, that being Re: Of Machines. Go check it out if you want an actual, stable plot line and better character developments. Or so I have been told by my beta reader.**

 **Enjoy**


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